


Too Bright for a Funeral

by rezi



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universes Sure Are Weird, Corpse Party, Funeral, Gen, Movie References, Post SBURB, Voidy-conjured Cake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-15
Updated: 2013-08-15
Packaged: 2017-12-23 14:46:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/927745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rezi/pseuds/rezi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fic about John and Jane, as requested by RidleyDidley:</p><p>"Maybe they decide to put some of their past demons behind them by having an unofficial funeral for their respective dads. They buy two tombstones and place them in a remote field somewhere (since their dads never existed in the post-Sburb world) and than hold the service while wearing fedoras, eating cake, and smoking some pipes (to make it funny and sad, they don't smoke and cough like crazy afterwards). Other people besides them attending are optimal. Both Angsty, cute, with a sprinkling of dark humor."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Bright for a Funeral

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> I said I'd have this up quickly, but... yeeeeeeah. Events conspired annoyingly to keep me off AO3 as of late, but that's all done with now.  
> Enjoy!

"Isn't it a bit bright for a funeral?"

The sun they created glares down on the expansive field, its light searing onto the two marble tombstones. The glare on John's glasses makes it hard to even look in that direction; he suddenly wishes he had a pair of Strider-style sunglasses. He continues his train of thought regardless:

"I mean, when you get funerals in movies it's usually dark and gloomy. It just doesn't feel right without a few black clouds. Like they had in --"

"It doesn't matter," Jane mutters, and self-consciously adjusts her fedora.

Before the service, she thought about wearing a moustache as well. Best not to, though. Clean-shaven is the family legacy, and she wouldn't disrespect her dad for the sake of a little lip fur. Despite him technically being her grandson, if you think about it. And the other being her alternate-universe son... actually, she'd rather not continue this train of thought.

In the end, the exact relation's unimportant. Once a dad, always a dad.

They're not the only ones holding a funeral today. Roxy insisted on holding one for her dear, sweet, precious ex-sprite, disregarding the fact that both Feferi and Nepeta are well and truly alive again -- and now, it seems, celebrating their own spritely demise. Never one to turn down the offer of a corpse party, Aradia tagged along as well. The four of them are congregated on the other side of the field, the air buzzing with gossip and laughter.

With John and Jane's fathers lost without hope of resurrection, their funeral is a markedly different affair.

Roxy had been the one to suggest these funeral services. "Shits 'n' giggles," she promised. The only giggles in this field echo from over at the Fefeta funeral. And as for shits? Well, the cows previously residing in this field weren't too fussy about toilet habits.

Jane realises something all too late. In a carefully restrained voice that's only just held back from screaming: "I have been standing in a cow pat all this time."

Of course John has to laugh at that. "It's like a prank from beyond the grave."

"Yes, very funny." Grimacing, she levers her foot out of the offending pat and shakes it off. "Besides caking our footwear in various bovine excretions, what are we actually doing here? Other than standing around looking miserable?"

"I really don't know. What are you meant to do at funerals, anyway?"

"I've never been to one," she considers. "Well, perhaps one. For my poppop, when I was just a baby. Come to think of it, that technically would have been your funeral."

"Really?" John furrows his eyebrows: his own funeral's hardly an easy subject to contemplate. "What was that like?"

"I was a baby, John. It's not as if I have an unfailing memory all the way from day one."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry."

Quieter now, she reflects: "It's strange, how he was... you were... a constant presence in my life. Mostly due to the fact that you insisted on being stuffed and placed in front of the fireplace? It was always frankly unnerving, having your old corpse in front of me as I watched television or ate cake."

John shudders. "Wow, good thing I just had my nanna's ashes. Or... yours, I guess? Huh. Alternate universes sure are weird." He can't imagine ever asking for his dead body to be stood in the middle of the house for Jane's entire life. Alternate universes sure _are_ weird.

"Indeed."

"But then she came back to life as a prankstery clownsprite to play pranks and bake cake for me for three years. That's... kind of not a normal thing that happens to old dead relatives, though."

"Pranks and cake." She allows herself a small smile. "That sounds like me."

As they stand unspeaking a little longer, the still in the air is only punctuated by laughs, glubs, meows and chatter from the other side of the field. Eventually Jane breaks the silence:

"Is that one of your dad's suits, then?"

"Yeah! It fits me, too!" Right on cue, one of the jacket's sleeves slips down over his hand; he bunches it back up on his arm. "Almost."

"It suits you. Though it'd probably suit you better if you hadn't rolled up the trousers so much."

John looks down at what seem to be impeccable, perfectly ironed pants right down until you reach the crudely rolled bottom. Well, it's better than getting the things caked in cow pat.

"You know, I brought something of my dad's to complete the outfit." Thinking out loud, John uncaptchalogues a pipe smelling of fatherly aromas. "May as well give it a go. Like, do what he would do, be my dad for him... uh. I'm not making much sense."

"Don't worry about it," she reassures him. "I understand what you're trying to convey here. It was a silly notion, I thought..." The exact same notion, in fact: she reveals an identical pipe stowed away in her sylladex.

Following slightly singed fingers, far much more smoke than expected and the resultant coughing fits, Jane concludes that this was indeed a very silly notion.

"Seriously, are we actually going to do something? That doesn't involve coughing our guts up?" John wheezes. "Or are we just gonna mope around watching these tombstones?"

"I suppose we should liven things up a little," she concedes. "We could put this corpse party's emphasis on the party, in the manner of the party over there. Honestly, though, I'm not in the mood for one. I'm still yet to come to terms with his death."

John thinks a while, then perks up: "Cake!"

She's quizzical. "I thought you didn't like cake?"

"Not too much cake. But I'm okay with just a little. For our dads."

After a brief discussion on how to actually get their hands on this cake, off they head to the other side of the field:

"Oh my GOD, YES! That ONE TIME you tried swimming! Cos Fefeta and me, we found this little pond, and the Fef half wanted to go splash around! But nooooope, Nepeta was NOT HAPPY, all her pink spritey fur sticking on end! And she was just stuck there in mid air a few minutes, swaying towards and away from the water, and it was the funniest thing! Aw, okay, okay, maybe not so funny for you, Neppy... But now you're split again, Feferi, you can swim all you want, and Nepeta doesn't have to if she doesn't want to! It's aaaaaaall good! And hey. You gotta admit. It was reeeeeeally funny to see. 'Radia, you should of seen it!"

Clearing her throat, Jane makes the obligatory correction: "Should have."

Roxy turns around. "JANEY!" Greeting her with a massive hug, and John with a coquettish eyebrow raise and cheeky twinkle of the fingers, she gets down to business. "Soooo... you two here for the mega-awesome corpse party shenanigans going on? Because, I tell ya, there is some CHOICE gossip being shared here, and it's a downright shame that you aren't being a part of it."

"Just here to ask a favor, thanks. I hope that's a non-alcoholic cocktail there?"

Raising her glass in a little toast, she wonks. "Mm-hmmmmmm. Only the tamest of drinks I'm drinking now. Tame, unlike Team Catfish here! My girls are WILD!"

Feferi glubs. Nepeta purrs. Aradia grins in the way only she can; John shuffles back surreptitiously.

Seeing how glum Jane looks, Roxy calms down a little. Time to activate supportive BFFsy mode, she reckons. "Aw, Jane, it ain't a time to be down in the dumps! We're out of the game now, we won! Funeral's an anagram of real fun, y'know, I think you could do with some of that."

"I should be, but it's not easy. I suppose a funeral is a fair bit more enjoyable when neither portion of the deceased is actually dead. That aside, could you please conjure us up some cake?"

The Rogue of Void perks back up, proceeding to prepare to put her title into practice. "Sure thing! Voidy cake comin' right up!" Hands apart, fingers twiddling: a lusciously layered cake blinks into existence. "Hey, not bad! I'm getting good at this! Your cake, madam."

"Thanks, Ro-Lal." She summons up as much positivity as she can muster up into as genuinely grateful a smile as she can bear, taking the cake carefully. As soon as it's in her hands, John tugs her sleeve and virtually drags her away.

As they return to where they were, Roxy gets right back into the swing of her gossip: "Yeah, Janey is the BEST. We weren't short on shenanigans with her, were we Fefeta? Remember the time when..."

Back with the Egbert-Crockers, John's frantic murmurs can be heard: "That Megido girl... batshit insane... the way she was looking at me... those EYES..." His own eyes dart back and forth in anxiety.

Jane sighs. "Relax, John. She's harmless."

"Hahahaha, I DON'T THINK SO! Did you _SEE_ that smile? That's the smile Nic Cage does when Sean Archer has Castor Troy's face on in Face/Off! You know the one! Or, or, that's the smile Dana Barrett makes in Ghostbusters! When she's saying 'there is no Dana, only Zuul'! I bet Aradia could do the creepy voice too if she triphmhmhmhmhmh!" He then experiences first-hand just how difficult it is to talk with cake shoved in your mouth; everywhere from his chin to his glasses has instantaneously developed a thick coating of icing.

Allowing herself a little chuckle, Jane has little doubt that she's successfully carrying on the pranking legacy. 

"MMFMMFHMFHmfhmm... thith ith mreally good cmake!" John takes a break from panicking about Aradia to lick the creamy icing off his lips.

Curious, she takes a nibble. "It is! Roxy's done well."

After clearing his face of delicious cake goop, John's finally able to speak clearly: "If only we'd actually baked it. Well, if you'd baked it. He tried teaching me for years and all I ever got was icky baked goop."

Jane tries reassuring him in between her own mouthfuls. "Then I can teach you! We'll get back home and give it a go together. Certainly we'll achieve more than we have standing around in this field."

He smiles a cake-filled grin. "He'd be proud."

**Author's Note:**

> [The](http://cdn.crushable.com/files/2011/01/nic_cage_faceoff11.jpg) [faces](http://076dd0a50e0c1255009e-bd4b8aabaca29897bc751dfaf75b290c.r40.cf1.rackcdn.com/images/files/000/006/994/original/original.JPG) John referenced, for your viewing pleasure. (Or not.)


End file.
